Out of the twenty only one managed to escape the planet. And he did it very simply, merely by walking up to
the crowded ticket window at one of the rocket ports and buying passage to Earth. His Army identification
papers passed the harassed inspection of the agent, and he gratefully and silently pocketed the small plastic
stub that was handed him in exchange for his money.

He picked his way with infinite care through the hordes of ex-soldiers clamoring for passage back to the
multitudinous planets from which they had come. Then he slowly climbed the heavy ramp into the waiting
rocket.

He was still very apprehensive, and, as he waited for the rocket to take off, he tried hard to remember the
principles of the pulse drive that powered the ship, and whether his additional weight would upset its
efficiency enough to awaken suspicion.

The seats filled quickly with excited hurrying passengers. Soon he heard the great door clang shut, and saw
the red light flicker on, warning of the take-off. He felt a slow surge of pressure as the ship arose from the
ground, and his chair creaked ominously with the extra weight. He became fearful that it might collapse, and
he strained forward trying to shift some of the pressure through his feet to the floor. He sat that way, tense and
immobile, for what seemed a long time until abruptly the strain was relieved and he heard the rising and
falling whine of the rockets that told him the ship was in pulse drive, flickering back and forth across the
speed of light.

He realized that the pilots had not discovered his extra weight, and that the initial hazards were over. The
important thing was to look like a passenger, a returning soldier like the others, so that no one would notice
him and remember his presence.

His fellow travelers were by this time chatting with one another, some playing cards, and others watching the teledepth screens. These were the adventurers who had flocked from all corners of the galaxy to fight in the first national war in centuries. They were the uncivilized few who had read about battle and armed struggle in their history books and found the old stories exciting.

The atmosphere screamed through the fins of the rocket, and the continents and the countries, and then the rivers and the mountains took shape. The big ship settled down as gently as a snowflake, shuddered a few times and was quiet.

When he saw the ramp running from the ship to the ground, he was dismayed. It seemed a flimsy structure, supported only by tubular steel. Five people were walking down it, and he made a mental calculation of their weight\u2014about eight hundred pounds he thought. He weighed five times that. The ramp was obviously never built to support such a load.

He hesitated, and then he realized that he had caught the eye of the stewardess waiting on the ground. A little panicky, he stepped out with one foot and he was horrified to feel the steel buckle. He drew back hastily and threw a quick glance at the stewardess. Fortunately at the moment she was looking down one field and waving at someone.

The ramp floor was supported by steel tubes at its edges and in its exact center. He tentatively put one foot in the middle over the support and gradually shifted his weight to it. The metal complained creakily, but held, and he slowly trod the exact center line to Earth. The stewardess' back was turned toward him as he walked off across the field toward the customhouse.

and not be fearful of betraying himself.
There was one further danger: the customs inspector.
He took his place at the end of the line and waited patiently until it led him up to a desk at which a uniformed

look up when he handed him his passport and identification.
"Human. You don't have to go through immigration," the agent said. "Do you have anything to declare?"
"N-no," the traveler said. "I d-didn't bring anything in."
"Sign the affidavit," the agent said and pushed a sheet of paper toward him.
The traveler picked up a pen from the desk and signed "Jon Hall" in a clear, perfect script.
The agent gave it a passing glance and tossed it into a wire basket.
Then he pushed his uniform cap back exposing a bald head. "You're my last customer for a while, until the

and pulled out a package of cigarettes, of which he lit one.
"You been in the war, too?" he asked.
Hall nodded. He did not want to talk any more than he had to.

You're too quiet and peaceful looking. I would have put you down as a doctor or maybe a writer."
"N-no," Hall said. "I w-was in the war."
"Well, that shows you can't tell by looking at a fellow," the agent said philosophically. He handed Hall his

papers. "There you are. The left door leads out to the copter field. Good luck on Earth!"
Hall pocketed the stamped documents. "Thanks," he said. "I'm glad to be here."
He walked down the wide station room to a far exit and pushed the door open. A few steps farther and he was

Across the valley, bright in the noon sun lay the pine covered slopes of the Argus mountains, and at his feet
the green Mojave flowering with orchards stretched far to the north and south. Between the trees, in the center
of the valley, the Sacramento River rolled southward in a man-made bed of concrete and steel giving water
and life to what had a century before been dry dead earth.

There was a small outcropping of limestone near the cement walk, and he stepped over to it and sat down. He would have been happy to rest and enjoy for a few moments his escape and his triumph, but he had to let the others know so that they might have hope.

He closed his eyes and groped across the stars toward Grismet. Almost immediately he felt an impatient tug at
his mind, strong because there were many clamoring at once to be heard. He counted them. There were
seventeen. So one more had been captured since he had left Grismet.

cave in the polar regions of Grismet.
"How goes it?" he asked.
The figure on Grismet lay stretched out at full length on the blue ice, his eyes closed. He answered without

one, the only other one left. He was squatting in the cellar of a warehouse in the main city of Grismet.
"Have they picked up your trail yet?" he asked.
"No," answered the one in the cellar. "They won't for a while. I've scattered depots of radiation all through the